Free That Night by Chevy Stevens Page B

relationship with Ryan is soooo perfect, like no one else can have a boyfriend. He’s the only thing you even talk about anymore.”
    Was that what this was really about? Amy was jealous?
    “That’s not true,” I said. “I still call you to hang out.”
    “Yeah.” She snorted. “When Ryan’s busy. You’re totally lame now.”
    “Screw you, Amy. You’re the one who was always canceling our plans so you could follow Warren around—no wonder he broke up with you.”
    Amy’s face was red, tears filling her eyes. “I hate you.”
    She spun around and walked off. Some kids followed, others stood around, waiting to see what I would do. I could barely move, still clutching my binder. My face was burning hot. Ryan, I have to get to Ryan.
    I ran down the hall, away from everyone, and skipped my first class, hiding out by Ryan’s truck, waiting for him to come out for a cigarette break.
    “Toni, what happened?” he said as soon as he saw me. “Are you okay?”
    “I hate this school and everyone in it.” I wiped away angry tears.
    He pulled me in for a hug. I hung on tight, my heart finally slowing as I felt his solid warmth, the strength in his body.
    He murmured against my hair, “We’re almost out of here.”
    I tried to focus on his words, but I kept hearing Amy say “I hate you.” I’d never had anyone say that to me before. Had never felt like someone meant it.
    *   *   *
    The next few weeks at school, all through the rest of January and the first week of February, were brutal. Ryan and a few of his friends were the only people who would talk to me. Even the guys’ girlfriends would give me the cold shoulder if the boys weren’t around. I was doing terrible in my classes. My mom and I had a big fight one night, after she said, again, that I was spending too much time with Ryan, and she used my grades as proof. I told her she didn’t know what she was talking about. She tried for the reasonable thing, sat on my bed and said, “Then talk to me and tell me what’s going on. None of your friends call, your teachers say you’re surly and difficult, you hide out in your room for hours…”
    I was so embarrassed, hearing what my life had become, that I flipped out completely. “Maybe you’re the problem. Did you ever think about that?” Then I stormed out of the house and walked down to the river. My dad came and got me an hour later.
    “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said, “but I hope you know you can always talk to us—no matter what. If it’s drugs—”
    “Jesus Christ, Dad. You’re as bad as Mom.”
    “We’re worried about you.”
    “Well, don’t be. I’m fine.” But I wasn’t, and he knew it. He rested his hand on my shoulder and didn’t say anything else. I was disappointed by that in an odd way. Part of me wanted him to press, wanted him to force it out of me. But he’d given up, and so had I. When we got home, my mom was in her office. I closed my door and turned on my music. She knocked a little while later but I ignored her. I heard my dad say something to her, then they both walked away.
    I’d tried to call Amy a couple of times, but her mom said she didn’t want to speak to me—and the way her mom’s voice sounded, stiff and cold, told me that Amy had confided in her. It made me feel even worse, thinking her mom believed I’d really said all those mean things. She’d always been so nice to me.
    Nicole had heard what happened, but I was too upset to even talk to her. I also didn’t want her telling Mom all about it because then she’d get involved and probably talk to our teachers or something stupid like that. I told Nicole some girls had been spreading lies, and acted like I didn’t give a shit, blowing it off. But inside, I was a mess. I was barely eating and was losing weight.
    Ryan was really upset with me about it, saying, “That’s a stupid way to deal with it. You have to eat.”
    We got in a fight about it one night when I couldn’t finish my